Requiem
by Cantaria
Summary: Sam wonders if Frodo has found what he's been searching for.


Characters: Frodo, Sam

Rating: PG

Warnings: None, really. This piece is neither slash nor gen; read it however you wish.  (Though in retrospect, I see some parts are a bit slashy.)

Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. 

Feedback: Would be greatly appreciated. I wasn't sure how this fic would turn out; I hope Sam's voice doesn't seem too far-fetched.

Summary: Sam wonders if Frodo has found what he's been searching for.    

Author's note: Today, 'requiem' means 'elegy'. Its Latin meaning was closer to "rest" or "peace". This fic is a sort of view on the double meanings of the word. 

Sometimes, I wonder how he's doing. I've gotten so I'm not fretting over him every moment of every day; my life doesn't allow much room for that. I'm supposed to be the one as everyone relies on for strength and surety, whether it be the townsfolk, my Rose and the bairns, or the trees and the flowers. I'm needed to make decisions, to salvage, to create, to love. It keeps me busy. I don't mind, though; it gives me purpose, something to do and to be. I suppose he was right about that, after all. But sometimes, at times like this, when I have a moment to myself outside in the garden- _his_ garden- among the plants and grass and air that he looked upon some time ago, under the moonlight that shines on one less of us here now, I wonder if he's found what he sought after.

"Hello, Mr. Frodo," I whisper. This has become my custom, to talk aloud as though he were standing across from me (_if I had it my way, he would be_.) "'Tis a fine night here, sir, haven't seen such a clear night in some time. I hope everything's fair over there as well. But then, they'd have to be, those Blessed Lands. Fair, that is. Oh, sir, I wish you could see the Shire now. It's gotten to be so beautiful." But I know something that would make the beauty and all the work that much better. I don't say this out loud; no regrets, he told me.  I fall silent for a while, staring up at the vast sky, and find myself thinking of Frodo. And I remember:

_the first time I saw him- I knew I was wrong in thinking that Elves were the fairest beings when he looked at me and smiled, and said, "It's nice to meet you, Sam. I think we shall get along famously, don't you?" and I could only blush and shyly nod;_

_listening to him recite poetry and tales in the garden or in front of the fire, watching his lips form the words and letting his voice paint pictures of grand beauty that I could only dream of;_

_showing him how to take care of the flowers and watching him place his hands in the earth, working and talking with me as though he were just my partner and not the Master of Bag End;_

_holding him in my arms on Weathertop, fearful of losing the one thing that mattered the most to me in life- the one thing that I loved best- oh, had he died… but he didn't. I remember one of the happiest moments of my life: when I returned to his room in Rivendell and saw a pair of bleary, bruised eyes staring back at me, when I stroked his arm and felt warmth pulsing through it- his aliveness was asserted._

"Frodo, you don't know how happy I was," I murmur. "To know that you were alive after being so certain that you were dead! Why, sir, it was- the only thing that surpassed it was Cirith Ungol." I stop. I don't want to recall this particular memory tonight, because I've already relived it a thousand times, and will a thousand more anyway, so I can surely spare myself for one night. I let my thoughts drift to later memories. My mind stumbles upon one of the last conversations I had with Frodo before he departed for the Blessed Lands.

_"Sam… do you suppose I'll ever find peace here?" Frodo turned away from the window he'd been staring out of. His face was so pale; yesterday had been October 6th. Too late I'd realized the agony he was in. (_Oh, I'm so sorry, if only I'd known…_)_

_I rose from my chair and walked over to him. "What do you mean, sir?"_

_He was silent for a long while. The soft strains from Rosie's lullaby to Elanor floated through the open door. At least my little girl would sleep soundly. As for Frodo, I wasn't so sure. Finally, he sighed and said, "They'll never heal, will they, all these wounds of mine?  It's only a matter of time before they consume me. I wish you didn't have to see that." His eyes were tired and sad and unbearably dark. I wanted nothing more than to fill those eyes with the light that I'd seen shining from him during the darkest days of our lives._

_"But, Mr. Frodo," I pleaded, "can't you just try? Sure, there's a fair amount of work to be done, but- it's over. You can live again. How can you not see all this life around you and not burst from joy and want to be part of it?"_

_"But that's exactly it, Sam," Frodo said heavily. "All I see is all this life around me and how I can never be part of it again. The Ring took that right from me, Sam. All it's left me is an empty shell and no purpose!" Tears slipped down his cheeks. "Oh, Sam, all I want is for these horrible dreams to end and these pains to go away and, for the Lady's sake, just a moment of peace…" Frodo clenched his fists as tears continued to leak out of his eyes. I pulled him into my arms and, after tensing for a brief moment, he became boneless. _

_"Oh, Frodo," I murmured into his hair. "You oughtn't have to bear all this pain. But everyone finds their own peace sooner or later. I found mine with Rosie and Elanor and, of course, you. You'll find yours, too. I'm sure of it." I pulled back gently and cupped his face in my hands, my thumbs tracing the salty trails left behind. His eyes did not meet mine._

_"Yes," he said, soft as a breath. "Perhaps I will." And his eyes did not meet mine._

"You knew you were going to leave me, didn't you, Frodo?" I whisper, tears in my own eyes. "You wanted to find your peace, but you knew it would hurt me when you left so soon. That's why you told me that I had to stay, because I had so much to be and to do. But," I sigh, "begging your pardon, me dear, what made you think you didn't? I still think you do. And Lady knows how much I miss you. But it's no use fishing in the air, is it? You were seeking your peace, and I couldn't begrudge you that. I can only hope that now you're there, you've found it." I turn around, preparing to go back inside, when a strong wind suddenly gusts by. Although I'm miles from the Sea, the air smells distinctly of salt and sand and something else very familiar. I smile. Yes, he's found it after all. And now that I think about it, so have I. 


End file.
